


Between the Lightning and the Thunder

by Aer, Writersblock159



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon Offshoot, F/M, Greek and Roman Mythology - Freeform, Immortality, OC characters, On Hiatus, Other, The fic is centered around the OCs, but they don't take center stage to the canon events, much more to come, we like fitting them into the edges of canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 10:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3324902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aer/pseuds/Aer, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writersblock159/pseuds/Writersblock159
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An immortal demigod has been scrounging a life for himself for years. Other than occasionally meeting with other immortals, and fighting monsters, he's had a rather uneventful life since the dark ages. But a request from the gods to figure out what's wrong with communications leads him on a hunt for a demigod, and ultimately pulls him back into a world he thought he'd left. OC centric.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between the Lightning and the Thunder

**Author's Note:**

> **Hello all! I am the Writersblock! I write OC’s, I refuse to mess with other authors' writing. I’m starting a bit of background with Andy, Nathan, and another character, who will be revealed sometime in the story.**
> 
> Hey, Aer here! I'm the one in charge of keeping this idiot on track. (And it isn't easy, let me tell you...) I'm part coauthor (at least I like to think so), part beta reader, and part motivator; I give out pats on the head and kicks in the butt as needed. But maybe it's finally getting some results, hmm? We originally posted this on fanfiction.net, but decided to crosspost it here for more exposure (and because I personally like AO3 more!)

I sighed as I walked by a black haired kid getting out of a taxi. The corner of 104th and First was always busy this time of day, and I _had_ hoped for a little bit of discretion as I tracked the rogue Lampades: nymphs that were personal servants of Hekate. It didn’t take much to figure out where they’d go. Nymphs always headed for somewhere natural, and in a city, where Nature was practically nonexistent, that was Central Park. I crossed the street at the corner of Lexington, to avoid construction being done further up. The Park was over three blocks away and I wanted to get out of the city as fast as possible. It was a bit too enclosed for me. I reached the corner of Park Avenue North and entered the tunnel beneath the light rail tracks. I felt in my pocket, and my two keychains rattled against each other, ready to change into swords should I need them, while my backpack with the rest of my supplies rested easily on my shoulders. As I got to the center, there was a bright flash, leaving me blinking in the brilliant light.

“So you continue to hunt my sisters and I?” a voice intoned behind me. A Lampade stood where there had been shadows only a moments before. She stood about 5'9” and had deathly pale skin. Her hair was gray and seemed to float outward from her, like a drowned corpse underwater. In her left hand, she held a torch above her head.

“What are we? Dogs, that you hunt for pleasure?” She hissed as she moved toward me, her voice echoing, making it seem as if hundreds of her were speaking at once.

“Hardly,” I slid my backpack off my back and tossed it to the side, as it would just get in the way if a fight broke out. “I have heard enough to know that you and your three sisters have been making problems for Olympus, manipulating the Mist and generally causing mayhem. Oh, and you were also tripping up poor, defenseless Hermes,” I snorted a bit at myself. Hermes was anything but defenseless. I took a firm grip on my keychains; I had to be ready for anything this monster threw at me.

“Of course,” murmured the Lampade, “if I were to say that I was only acting on my mistress's orders, you wouldn’t believe me, I’m sure.” She sounded disappointed. “Come now,” she said soothingly. “Look into my torch, and it will show you the truth.”  
Rule number one of fighting monsters: if they offer you something it's probably poisoned, a trap, a poisoned trap, or a very nice monster; and the latter is practically nonexistent.

“Um, no.” I said, bringing my keychains out of my pocket, “I seem to recall something about looking into a bright light being bad for my eyes.” ‘ _And,_ ’ I added mentally, ‘ _I seem to recall reading something about not looking into a Lampades torch because it instills you with terror._ ’

“Shame,” sighed the Lampade. She stopped walking, “Then there is only one thing left to do.” Suddenly, she threw her torch straight at me. I followed my instincts, dodged left hitting the wall with my back and getting a bruise right on my shoulder blade. I ignored the pain, and spun my keychains by the rings. As they completed the final circuit, two swords formed in my hands, the blades two and a half feet long, a dull, ugly grey, and razor sharp.

I proceeded to deflect a second torch. I was surprised that while her throwing motion was fast, the projectiles were moving extremely slowly. I moved in closer, and noticed that she seemed to have a supply of torches on her right hip, and seemed to just be lighting them up and throwing them at me.

“How are you lighting those?” I asked, as one narrowly missed my hair.

“Magic,” replied the Lampade, without even slowing down.

“Magic.” I muttered, “Sure, why not? Couldn’t have been something nice and uncomplicated like a godly flamethrower.” I rolled under another one in an attempt to get closer to the nymph. It didn’t work. I tumbled too far and collided with her foot. She stomped on my ribs, and I heard a sickening crack before she threw a torch straight at me. I deflected the torch back at her, and swung my sword, but she anticipated both and sidestepped to her left. Taking advantage of the opening, I got to my feet. My side _ached_! I tried to ignore it and started focusing on the adrenaline pumping through my body. I moved toward the Lampade, who had stopped summoning fire. I glanced down and saw her problem. At her feet was her bag of torches, neatly sliced off her belt. She was still glowing brightly (somehow, I didn’t care how). I didn’t think; I simply reacted. As one of my swords was currently being used as a cane, I tried to end the fight using the other. The Lampade nimbly dodged, but I knew that I had to keep her on the defensive and away from those torches.

“So,” I growled as I swung at her, more angry than pained. She dodged and I hobbled after her, “What were you three thinking, interrupting the gods' communications?"

“Nothing,” retorted the nymph. “Just following orders.”

She suddenly tripped, and I took advantage of her mistake to stab her with my ‘cane’.

“Hades!” I cursed as I realized that I had just killed a potential source of information. “That wasn’t very productive.” I muttered, “Unless my aim was to get a painful side.”

I dropped my sword, reached in my side pants pocket, pulled out a piece of ambrosia, and chomped on it. I loved the stuff, but I didn’t want to find out if being an immortal demigod meant that you still had a chance of spontaneous combustion if I ate too much either.

Feeling considerably better, I grabbed my second sword from the floor and placed the pommels together for a few seconds, shrinking them back to keychains.

“Thank you, Hephaestus.” I said, before I grabbed a couple of the torches and walked onto the corner of the street.. As I waited to cross Park Avenue South, a rainbow formed in front of me, morphing into a familiar, bearded face.

“Nathan!”

“Chiron! Great timing,” It beat him trying to talk to me as I crossed the street, or fought for my life against a pyromaniac nymph. “I was just about to cross a street. How can I help you?” I leaned against the side of the light rail track overpass.

“Well, Grover’s lost a demigod, and he lives in the area near Central Park. We were hoping you could find him.” Chiron muttered, looking frustrated and worried.

I sighed. “Chiron, you know I love to help you where I can, but ‘the area around Central Park’ is huge. Do you have a street number at least?”

Chiron looked away for a moment and I could hear shuffling papers, then he read off, “East 104th and 1st Avenue.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’ve upgraded to incredible timing, I literally just walked by. Yes, I’ll walk back, yes, I’ll help your new student, and yes, I’ll see you tonight.

“Thank you Nathan.” Chiron looked relieved. “What brought you by Central Park anyway?”

“Tracking.” I said shortly. I knew Chiron understood the gods could barely communicate by speaking, but I didn’t know if he knew all other forms of communication had been made impossible as well.

“Rogue monsters again?”

I chuckled and dismissed it with a wave of my hand, “If these monsters were any more obvious to track you’d think…” Then I realized something; it _had_ been far too easy. They were keeping me busy, probably while something big happened. I put the thought aside for now; I had to find this demigod and get him to camp. I’d panic over where the Lampades were later. “What does this kid look like, and what's his name?” I said as a 1970’s Camaro pulled up beside me.

“Black hair, green eyes, and he’s Percy Jackson.”

“Does his mother or father drive a Camaro?” I asked, looking into the car.

"Yes, I believe his stepfather owns one, Percy’s mother uses it from time to time. Why?” Chiron looked at me curiously.

“I think I’m looking right at him. I’ll talk to you later." I swiped my hand through the image just as the light turned green. The Camaro roared off. I waved over a taxi and hopped in.

(I’m a line break)

Things that I learned while trying to follow a car by taxi:

1) Taxi drivers do not do the things they do in the movies where jumps and explosions are commonplace; if they miss the turn, oh well.

2) They want to know why you’re following said car.

3) They are affected by traffic.

4) They seem to be prone to flat tires in the middle of nowhere.

Consequently, I sat in a taxi, telling the driver a story about the time a friend got hiccups underwater, when the tow truck finally made it out to us with a spare tire, it was close to eight p.m. The driver dropped me off at a farm outside of town, and I walked up the hill, passing a pine tree, and into the camp. I went straight to the Big House to apologize.

After my explanation, Chiron seemed to consider the story for a moment, before stepping into his wheelchair and “sitting” to send a message to Grover.

“O, Iris, goddess of the Rainbow, please accept my offering, and show me Grover Underwood,” murmured Chiron to the rainbow on the wall. The rainbow swirled, before showing us an exhausted satyr, walking along the road.

“Grover!” called Chiron.

“Mahh!” Bleated Grover, “Oh, I’m sorry, Chiron, I’m trying to find Percy.”

“The car that he was in was headed out by Long Island Sound. We were taking a shortcut that I know when we broke down.”

“Hmmm…” Grover sat down. You could tell he was thinking hard because he was eating the shirt he was wearing. “Yeah, he mentioned going to Mah.. Mel… Mon…”

“Montauk?” I asked.

Grover's eyes lit up “Yes, exactly. Montauk!”

Chiron was clearly excited. “I have the location and it's nearby!”

“I’ll be there shortly, assuming the weather holds,” Grover said, looking at the sky.

I winced as I saw the dark clouds, “I don’t envy you the trip, Grover, but I hope you make it there soon.”

“That makes two of us, Nathan.” said Grover before standing up and dusting himself off. “I have to run, but I hope I’ll see you guys soon.” He waved his hand and was gone.

Chiron sighed, “That young satyr has brains, courage, and drive. He’ll go far if he helps Percy."

I nodded. I’d met Grover only a few times, but I knew he had a desire to find Pan, and if he could bring in one more camper, he’d get his license. I debated on going out to help, but knew that could end up doing more harm than good for the poor satyr.

“Chiron? What is going on with the gods lately? This many thunderstorms in a year isn’t normal.”

Chiron, who had just been driving away in his chair, stopped and turned around, although he looked nervous. “It's backlash from the winter solstice.” I could tell that he was leaving something out.

“Oh? They’re still arguing over who was Rhea’s favorite?” I said, raising an eyebrow. “Chiron, the gods are petty-” I was interrupted by a loud rumble of thunder.

“Nathan, you really need to work on how you describe our relations.” Chiron said, glancing nervously at the ceiling.

“It’s on my ‘To Do’ list.” I moved away from the spot where I had just been standing. If Zeus lost patience and decided to just shoot in the last location he heard me, he might miss. “The gods are… argumentative, but they don’t hold grudges this long. Hestia would have called in Rhea by this point if it was getting dangerous like this. Something is… missing.” Chiron winced. “I meant that figuratively, _dáskalos._ ” I used the Ancient Greek for teacher in the hopes that the affectionate term would calm him down. “But what's missing? Did one of the gods or goddesses leave early?”

Chiron sighed, suddenly looking his age. “No, no one left early. But something was taken. Zeus’ master bolt.”

I whistled, “The toy that makes the nuclear bomb look like a birthday cake candle is missing? Thats bad.”

Chiron nodded solemnly, “None of the gods could find it either. Which means that one of them has it. Zeus thinks he knows who too.”

“ _Κρόνος_ , the crooked one.” The entire house seemed to get darker as I said the name.

“Nathan!” Chiron hissed, “Names have power! What are you thinking?” He was looking around as if he expected the Lord of Time to pop out of the shadows.

“ _Χείρωνα_ , relax,” I said, using his true name just in case Kronus did decide to appear. “He wouldn’t dare here. It's the heart of the Olympian empire.”

“Nathan, he could and no doubt will if you continue to do such stupid things.” Chiron was still glancing around the room, but his tone had softened as nothing bad had happened. “ As to him being the guilty party he has not been active for quite some time. No, Zeus is fairly certain the guilty party is none other than his brother Poseidon.”

I snorted “Ha! Yeah, right! Not only wouldn’t Poseidon do it, he couldn’t do it. Ancient Laws, remember?”

“Yes, but the entire camp was there. If Poseidon is guilty, he would have had an insider in the camp.”

I thought for a second “Does he have any children here?”

“None here, or anywhere else in the world that we know of.”

“Then it could be anyone, and Zeus is being…” I paused trying to think of the the most imaginative way to call the king of the gods crazy without getting fried.

“Overly suspicious might be a couple of good words to use in this case, I think,” Chiron supplied.

“Biased too,” I chuckled at how stupid Zeus was making himself look. “He should be examining Hephaestus. If anyone could build something to hide the bolt, it would be him. Not to mention he’d likely be able to make it even more deadly.” I added.

Chiron raised an eyebrow “While the god of the forge would probably find the bolt an incredible weapon, and though his children were there, we are lacking a motive. He is very happy with his father and I see no reason why he should wish any harm upon his family.”

“Whereas Poseidon could be making copies to usurp his brother's rule.” The pieces of Zeus's accusation began to fall into place. “Since the cyclops' forges are in the ocean, Zeus can pretty safely assume Poseidon is attempting to create an arsenal for private use.”

“Right, and if it is true World War III breaks out and we all die.” Chiron said gravely.

“Has Hades said anything on the subject?” I asked glancing at the floor, half expecting to see skeletal hands pop out of the ground. Hades was always a risky topic.

“He remains as distant as ever,” Chiron said, looking relieved by the _lack_ of bony hands emerging from the earth. “As long as he is out of the picture, the two might work things out.”

“Or tear each other to bits while Hades laughs with the master bolt at his side.” I mused, “but Hades would need to declare war on The Fates for that, and while he may be many things, he, would never break the laws of hospitality.”

“Very true.” Chiron considered what I said. “Whoever stole the bolt _may_ have broken the laws of hospitality. The Fates will not look kindly upon him or her if they did.”

I winced, The Fates could really make your life miserable if they moved against you. Breaking the laws of hospitality was a good way to get on the wrong end of Atropos's shears. “Nevermind. We can speculate until the cows come home, but that doesn’t change the following facts: the master bolt is missing and we have no real clue as to who has it. Zeus has assigned blame to Poseidon who insists that he doesn't have it. This has sparked a war between the two gods that has remained cold, but is about to heat up. That correct?”

Chiron looked surprised “Yes, to all of the above, but how did you know the last part?"

"Meteorology; the two have been fighting with snowstorms, thunderstorms, and other odd weather patterns for months. Knowing Zeus and his intractable ways, things are about to come to a peak soon.” I felt a little proud that I had managed to connect the dots on my own.

Chiron nodded. “Things are about to come to a head. Zeus _will_ declare war if his bolt is not returned by the summer solstice."

"But that's less than two months away!" I interjected.

Chiron grimaced in agreement. "To make matters worse, Poseidon has chosen the same day to demand an apology from Zeus for insinuating that he’s a crook.”

“We’re doomed.” I collapsed into a chair. I had no doubt about it. Zeus would never apologize, not even if you cut him into tiny pieces and threw him into Tartarus.

“Unless a third party was involved, I’m afraid so.” Chiron sighed. “But enough of such talk, it’s late, and you look tired.”

“I feel tired. Do I get the front porch again?” I half-joked. Eighty years ago there were so many visitors due to a solar eclipse, the big house had actually been full, and I had had to sleep on the porch. While Chiron had insisted that it wouldn’t happen again, Mr. D had threatened to put me out more than once.

My teacher rolled his eyes, “Unless you want the porch, no. You get your usual room.”

I grinned, “Good. Now if you don’t mind, all this talk of the end of the world has made me tired. If you need me, I’ll be upstairs.” I walked into the entryway and grabbed my backpack, before heading up to my room of choice on the infrequent occasions I actually stayed here.

**Author's Note:**

> **Read and review, more to come.**
> 
> Please do! I'm the one in charge of handling AO3, so feel free to shoot me a comment whenever!


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